


Let'sa go!!

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Established Relationship, Friends Being Awful, Gen, Humour, M/M, Mario Kart, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6347485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are two devastating defeats on a 15 year old console, Kuroo learns the horror of facing an opponent craftier than he is, Bokuto discovers why humans don't yell every word they speak, and Akaashi finally doesn't have eye bags (for all the wrong reasons).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let'sa go!!

Before Akaashi even opens the door, he hears it. The fake laugh cackle, punctuated by a hoot of pleasure, the sound of someone's back being slapped so hard a normal person would've had the wind knocked out of them. The following cry of anguish, the chocked out sob, the dramatic "no" to put Darth Vader to shame (and Akaashi's ashamed he knows the movies well enough to even _think_ that). It's obvious what's going on inside. He slides the door open and shuffles in, closing it behind him with the faintest click.

"Akaaaashiiiiiiii," Bokuto whines, his voice carrying from the main room, and though he can't see it Akaashi can just imagine the pout on his face. "Come help me."

"Maybe let him actually enter the apartment before you start complaining to your boyfriend," Kuroo's voice is just as loud, and it carries the vision of his overconfident smug face with it. "Akaashi, how do you handle this guy? Does he do this every time you come in?"

"No!!" Bokuto yells, the same moment Akaashi says "Yes." The following whimper is so pathetic that Kuroo snorts. 

"Let me take off my shoes," Akaashi calls. He slides them off his feet, placing them beside Kuroo's. He takes a moment to tidy up the foyer, righting Bokuto's umbrella, matching gloves back together, putting the discarded coats on hangers. 

He finds a familiar, but unexpected pair of shoes underneath Kuroo's coat. "Is Kozume here? I thought he was up so late grinding last night he said he wasn't coming."

"He came anyway. He's napping," Kuroo replies, his voice loud enough to wake anyone in the entire building up from a nap (or coma). Akaashi wonders, briefly, if Kozume had any choice coming. At least he's getting some sleep in. Akaashi stuffs his feet into the pair of slippers that used to be Bokuto's (and technically, he guesses, still are, but Akaashi's the only one who wears them now) and shuffles into the main room. 

There's Bokuto, slumped against the back of the couch, his shoulders sagging so much they remind Akaashi of the time he dislocated both his arms trying to catch a Frisbee. Beside him is Kuroo, relaxed, arms behind his head and a controller still sitting in his lap. And there's the evidence of Bokuto's constant displeasure: the TV shows the end of a race, still playing, muted (probably when he opened the door), the results sitting on screen. It seems they're playing Double Dash today. Bokuto is dead last (playing with Yoshi and Toadette on Rainbow Road, he deserves it). Kuroo, unsurprisingly, sitting in first place (Waluigi and Daisy. Classic Ass-Kuroo tactics). 

Akaashi takes another step inside the room, aiming to sit with them on the couch. Both sets of eyes shift to him at the same moment in the same way, and even after the hundredth time they've done it, it's eerie to see so in sync. Half closed, half opened, fully focused. It makes him pause, foot just resting down on the floor again.

Of course, it's what happens next that really starts the shit show.

Bokuto looks back towards the TV without even saying hello, retrieving his controller from beside him to mash his way through the trophy ceremony. Kuroo, just as expected, notices immediately. Akaashi watches the expression on his face change, from his cocky smirk, to a mask of confusion, to an open mouthed, silent gasp. His eyebrows furrow and he mouths 'Oh my god' and starts to get up from the couch. This is the point when Bokuto _finally_ does his double take, finally clues in something is very wrong. He drops the controller on the floor. He whips his head back towards Akaashi, and Akaashi swears he twists his head further than humanly possible, going so fast he breaks the sound barrier.

Oh, no, that's just him yelling.

"Akaashi?!" He beats Kuroo to his feet, beats Kuroo across the room, and especially beats Kuroo to the 'cupping Akaashi's face in his hands and holding him two inches away from his own face' bit (okay, so Kuroo probably wouldn't do that part). Bokuto's eyes shine with concern, and his hands are light and warm. It's very hard not to lean into them, not to relax, not to close his eyes. As thumbs slide over his cheeks, he starts to. "Akaashi, what happened? I thought you were sleeping better!"

He instantly straightens his back and snaps to attention. Akaashi starts to scowl and he can't stop the sigh escaping from his mouth. So much for that moment. "Bokuto, I am sleeping better."

"But-"

"Bo," Kuroo's voice cuts in as he leans an arm on Bokuto's shoulder. Maybe Akaashi was wrong about the two inches away from his face deal, because there it is. Terrible haircut, dark brown eyes, another mouth breathing on him, far too far into his personal space. At least Kuroo doesn't yell. "That's kind of clearly a black eye, not a dark circle."

Then comes the second double take, as Bokuto shrugs Kuroo off his arm, as he holds Akaashi closer and tighter and twists his head to get a better look. He murmurs an oh no under his breath, and then there's lips grazing his temple and his cheek and nose and Akaashi just lets it wash over him for a second. 

After the second, he pulls his face back, because damn, Bokuto's grip is starting to hurt. "That's enough, Bokuto. Let me sit down."

Bokuto hovers around Akaashi as he crosses to the couch, as if he might collapse on the way over. Kuroo, on the other hand, races past both of them to slam his ass back down where he was sitting before. He raises an eyebrow, daring Akaashi to take the spot, which he didn't want in the first place. Akaashi makes a point of 'accidently' shoving his elbow into Kuroo's shoulder as he sits beside him, and Kuroo almost gets in a return shove, but Bokuto flops down to Akaashi's left with such force they both get launched a few centimeters in the air.

"What happened?" Bokuto asks. "You didn't mention it! Is this why you were late? Were you at the hospital?" He gasps, and then half lids his eyes as he smiles and Akaashi blinks slowly, dreading his next sentence. "Are you in a fight cl-?"

"Like I've told you every day this week, I am _not_ part of a fight club," Akaashi sighs. "I never should have let you watch that movie."

"It's a good movie!"

"I got it," Akaashi interjects, "last night. A woman on the train dropped her book, and when I bent to get it, she moved and got me in the face with her elbow. That's all. No hospital trip, no fights, nothing. Just an accident."

"Oh," and Bokuto deflates, bored, picking at his jeans. Not exciting enough to hold his attention. "Tell me when you get in a fight club, okay?"

"I just thought you annoyed someone so much they punched you," Kuroo says. He leans on the armrest of the couch, bonking his leg into Akaashi's. Akaashi slams his knee back into Kuroo's and they both wince.

"Just because that happens to you whenever you use the train, doesn't mean it happens to everyone, Kuroo," Akaashi mutters. 

"Oh?" Kuroo leans in, jamming his forehead into Akaashi's, and Akaashi realizes this is the only time he's ever going to be glad Bokuto is the one on the side where his injury is. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." Their eyes meet, and Akaashi smirks, and Kuroo smirks, and Akaashi can feel the sparks flying between them. Friendly, competitive sparks. He takes a deep breath and pulls his head back, resting it against the back of the couch. He needs to change the topic. "So, Bokuto lost again?" 

"Big time!" The change on Kuroo's face is instant, his eyes switching targets from Akaashi to Bokuto in record speed. The groan that comes out of Bokuto's mouth is long and loud and full of anguish that should really be reserved for important things. "Dead last, four races in a row. I'm pretty sure I lapped him at one point!"

"He didn't," Bokuto brings his mouth close to Akaashi's ear and the words tickle, low enough that Kuroo can't hear them. Akaashi doesn't believe Bokuto for an instant, but he nods anyway. This just encourages him to talk louder, and Akaashi flinches as Bokuto shouts in his ear. "That's why I'm glad you're here now! You're going to avenge me! I need you to kick his sorry ass!"

"Bo, Bo, is that any way to treat your guest?" Kuroo puts a hand over where his heart should be, but there's nothing really in there. "You wound me."

"You wounded me first!!" Bokuto yells. Kuroo leans forward (practically on Akaashi) to flick Bokuto between the eyes. Bokuto replies by clamping both hands on Kuroo's cheeks and squeezing. They both start laughing, louder and louder, and Akaashi tenses his shoulders and cracks his neck. He tries to ignore the elbow and knees on his lap and hair in his face. He starts to count, very slowly, to ten. 

He gets to four and loses his patience. He jams his hands between them, shoving both their faces into the sides of the couch. His first glare goes to Bokuto, and his boyfriend wilts and pouts and drums his fingers on his knee. He mumbles something Akaashi knows is supposed to be an apology. The second glare goes to Kuroo, and Akaashi slides his gaze under his lashes, not bothering to turn his head. Kuroo almost has the decency to look a tiny bit sorry. Almost. He makes getting shoved into the couch look natural.

Akaashi is going to destroy him.

"Give me the controller," Akaashi says. Bokuto lets out a whoop of excitement, picking the controller off the floor with his feet and slamming the worn silver lump into Akaashi's open hands. Kuroo picks up his as well, and it's orange and gaudy, like the rest of his accessories. Bokuto unmutes the TV, and the blaring sound of the main menu fills the empty spaces where he'd usually talk.

It's been two months since Akaashi last played Double Dash, but he's not rusty. He knows he's not rusty. He blinks, focusing his mind, ignoring Kuroo made snide comments about his team matching his eyes ('Who picks Koopa over Paratroopa, Akaashi? Do you like green that much?' 'Petey, really?' 'Might as well pick the green car while you're at it!'). 

He picks the green car, while he's at it. In just over two minutes, Kuroo's going to be eating all those words. He could defeat him in any car, any time, any place. 

"Special Cup?" Kuroo asks.

"Of course!" Bokuto replies. "He's gotta avenge me where I fell!"

"You fell all over all these maps, so that might be hard," Kuroo sniggers. 

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. "Were you really that bad, Bokuto?"

"Shut up!! You're supposed to be on my side!" He crosses his arms on his chest and grinds his toes into the floor. His next exhale is long and sad. Any further would be too far, Akaashi knows, so instead of teasing or prodding, he nudges Bokuto's elbow with his own. He gets a small 'hmph' in reply. 

"Bokuto," he says (and what he means is sorry, but all he ever has to say, really, is Bokuto's name). Bokuto flicks his amber eyes over, and Akaashi nods at the TV, and Bokuto unslumps himself by a millimeter or two. That's enough. He's forgiven. Bokuto will come around the moment he crosses the finish line first. 

It's time to race.

Starting in seventh isn't Akaashi's preferred method of destroying Kuroo, but he knows how to get into eighth quickly. When the count down appears, he subtly holds the A button down. He stalls out when it's time to go, and Kuroo cackles as he zooms past, straight into the melee. 

Right where Akaashi wants him. Kuroo's grown soft racing Bokuto. This is going to be easier than he thought. 

"What are you doing, Akaashi?!" Bokuto shouts, and Akaashi wonders how he's not getting tired of talking so loudly. "I thought you were going to win for me!" 

"Calm down," Akaashi replies. "It's hardly begun." 

"I think it's begun plenty," Kuroo smirks, leaning so far back in his seat his controller cable strains at the distance. "Sorry, Bo, looks like neither you or Akaashi can compete with the master."

It's during his speech that he slips into first place, and Akaashi immediately flips characters (the first of many annoying sounds to come from their teams), and fires the blue seeker. He jumps from eighth to fifth in another quick turn as Kuroo swears, loudly, fiercely, continuously, and drops to third. 

"You were sitting on that," he hisses.

"Sorry, Kuroo. Looks like you can't compete with the master." 

Kuroo lets out a soft 'hoho'. Bitter and sharp. Akaashi passes him just as the second lap starts, and that gets a whoop from Bokuto and a clap on his back that Akaashi grins and bears. Kuroo can't catch him (with red seekers or green shells or bananas or mushrooms) the entire way to the finish line. First, second. Akaashi, Kuroo. 

Bokuto lets out an excited cheer, grabs Akaashi's jaw, and with a twist of his arm and a twist of Akaashi's head, crashes their mouths together. It's way closer to a headbutt, or a punch, than a kiss, and his nose hits Akaashi's and it's a bit tender on that side from his black eye. He frowns, and Bokuto grins, pulls back just enough to show off that dazzling light in his eyes. The second kiss is much gentler, and Akaashi returns it.

"Gross," Kuroo calls. "Tone it down, I'm right here. And you should hardly be celebrating, Bokuto. I can still win this."

"Like hell," Akaashi mutters into Bokuto's cheek, and they share another smile, as Kuroo hammers A into the next race. 

Dino Dino Jungle starts just as expected: Kuroo riding his ass, like some tailgaiting suburban mother on her way to soccer practice. He's still lying back on the couch, still cracking jokes, and this is his biggest mistake (of the race, so far, because Akaashi knows he'll make another shortly). Akaashi slips his car just under the foot of the dinosaur, and when Kuroo follows, he isn't sure what happens first: Kuroo yelling "Fuck off, Akaashi" or his car being flattened. Either way, the next sound is Bokuto yelling and pumping his fist like he's watching a sports match. 

"You screen watch," Kuroo shoots at him.

"So do you," Akaashi replies, drifting around a turn and staring at Kuroo's half of the screen. "I'm just better at it." 

"I'd be better if you didn't keep that giant headed plant on the back of your team. How can you see around it?"

"Watch out for that banana."

Kuroo hits it.

By the second lap, Akaashi's mouth hurts from smirking, but he can't stop. It's too fun. Kuroo's eyebrows sink lower and lower every time Akaashi dodges or blocks his attacks, every time Akaashi recovers that little bit too fast and slides, easily, into first place again, right around him. They both pause, occasionally, to obliterate the NPC around them, especially the Luigi team (Baby and Regular brand) that keeps trying to threaten their otherwise even race.

He rams Kuroo's car off the bridge on the third lap. 

"Akaashi that's how you do it!" Bokuto yells. Another clap on his back. More of those and Akaashi's leaving with more bruises than he came in with. By the time he hits the final stretch to the finish line, Kuroo's riding his ass again, but Akaashi makes a point of snagging all the items he could get.

He slides in just ahead of Kuroo, slides his head to one side, raises an eyebrow. "I thought this was going to be a challenge, Kuroo. Is it hard to see the screen with your head shoved so far up your ass?"

"Nice," Bokuto says. They fist bump. 

And that's what does it. Kuroo's eyes go dark as he looks down, his 2005 slice covering his eyes, and when he looks up again, they're blazing. He straightens his shoulders, he sits up from the back of the couch. He cracks his knuckles in front of his body before leaning on his knees with his elbows. 

Took him long enough to take this seriously. Bowser's Castle finally becomes a competition. 

"You shit!" Kuroo yells. "How the hell do you aim green shells so well? And why do you always have fifty?"

"Still think Koopa's a bad choice?"

"Eat bomb, jackass." 

"Fuck!" 

Bokuto whistles low and long as Akaashi's screen fills red, his eyes see red, and all that echoes in his ears is that taunting 'Wah hah ha!' as Kuroo drives past him. He finds himself leaning forward, his eyes flicking between screens, aiming off walls, taking short jumps, hopping the extra little corners and angles he knows he shouldn't be able to but, damnit, the game's so old he can. 

Kuroo counters with his own tactics: annoyances. Distractions. Yawning loudly, shifting his posture constantly, and if Akaashi has to hear the phrase 'Hi, I'm Daisy!' one more time he is throwing the controller through the screen and tackling Kuroo clean out the window, fifth story or no. 

He's still behind on the final stretch of the final lap, but there's no way in hell he's letting Kuroo take even one point more than he deserves. He glances at Kuroo's screen as Kuroo glances at his, and they both realize at the same moment what's about to happen, fifty green shells and all.

"Don't you dare," Kuroo breathes. His finger twitches, and he's about to swerve, but it's too late.

Akaashi's got a faster reaction time. 

One, two, three, perfectly space, perfectly timed, and Kuroo spins out pixels away from the finish line. Akaashi speeds across, and through some luck Kuroo's nose spins over the line in second, just moments before the Luigis nose their way into third. 

"Give up Kuroo!" Bokuto points his finger dramatically across Akaashi's body. "You can't catch up now, you're a goner!" 

"I'm going to destroy your boyfriend on Rainbow Road, take first, and he's going to cry to me from eighth and see just how well I can play," Kuroo replies easily, flipping Bokuto the finger around his controller. "Stop talking so big for someone who couldn't even finish Bowser Castle without my help."

"Are you _serious_?" Akaashi says. "You had to finish the race for him?"

"When am I not serious?"

Akaashi gives Bokuto a pitying look, but just briefly, because the music's starting up and he has one more race to win. 

Nearly losing last race had also been a part of his plan, though he'd kept that little thought contained until now. Kuroo might be smart, clever, tall, and have freakishly large hands, but Akaashi spends his entire life making plans for every outcome. He knows how Kuroo's going to run this last race. He knows all the stupid risks, all the choices he'll make, and each and everyone one of them will fail. Akaashi's going to crush that last little bit of hope in him out.

He'd might have started this to avenge Bokuto, but that's not why he's driving now. He likes winning. Especially against Kuroo. 

And does he ever win it. 

"How the hell did you time that?" Kuroo shouts, his Birdo car being lowered back onto the track. "You just shot me clean off the curve with a mushroom!"

"Practice, Kuroo," he replies. He tosses a Yoshi egg backwards, but Daisy's heart guard of hell picks it up. Kuroo fires it back, but not before Akaashi enters the long pipe, and it crashes uselessly into the invisible barrier. "That was close."

"I'm getting you next time."

He does, with a red seeker, and it takes every hour of practice Akaashi's had playing this game with Kozume to avoid falling off the edge because of it. Throughout the second lap, they switch places, fall off, hammer each other, over and over.

The Luigis take them both out in quick succession before the third lap begins. 

"I hate Luigi," Kuroo mutters. "What a dick. And a baby? How can he be a baby and his regular self?"

"Mm," Akaashi replies. "Want me to snipe him?"

"Please." 

Akaashi does. They both take their hands off their controllers to pound fists as Luigi (and Baby Luigi, the bastard) hurtle off into space. Then, they turn back to the screen. Akaashi feels the temperature drop in the room. Beside him, Bokuto tucks his knees up to his chest, biting his thumbnail, legs jittering the entire couch.

He doesn't manage to slam Kuroo off again, and he even loses first place once (and just once) on the course. Kuroo throws everything he has at him, but Akaashi knows where the shells will bounce over him, knows when to risk slowing the car down and when to throw a banana just behind him to slip up Kuroo on a speed ramp. 

He thinks it might be a bit low, but he drops a banana on the ramp right when he knows Kuroo isn't looking at his screen. Kuroo dodges it, but it's with a cuss and a curve and it costs him the extra two seconds Akaashi needs to win the race.

A perfect finish.

Kuroo slams his controller on the floor the moment he comes in second again, and Akaashi winces at the noise. Bokuto takes a moment to recover, his mouth forming a silent, shit eating grin, and then he gives another headbutt-kiss to Akaashi's forehead, mouth, cheek, mouth, and Akaashi shoves Bokuto's face back to play the trophy ceremony. Kuroo leans heavily on his knees, shaking his head.

"You trashed me," he mutters. "Damn, Akaashi, you've got no soul."

"Ha, ha," Akaashi drones in reply. "I'm just better at this than you."

"I think we need a rematch. All Cup Tour. You and me and sixteen races for me to catch up," Kuroo hisses. His eyes are blazing. "You're a lot more fun to race than Bokuto."

Bokuto squawks at that, and he puffs his chest for some retort. Akaashi tunes him out, knowing if someone doesn't move the controller Kuroo threw down, it's going to get crushed under someone's foot. Most likely Bokuto's. That's one hospital trip he'd like to avoid, especially since the nurses are starting to recognize him on sight. He slides a bit forward, bends, reaches a hand down.

He feels something heavy - a fast, high pressure, slamming full force into his face. He sees spots, and there's a loud rattle and thunk in his skull. Searing pain shoots from his eye through his brain to his neck. He hears someone yell, and he can't tell who, and it might be him, and his hands are clutching and clawing around his right eye as his back snaps upright. He collapses into the back of the couch.

Hands grab at his wrists and he mutters a quick "Don't touch me." When the hands remain, he sucks air through his teeth and yells it. "Don't touch me! For fuck's sake!"

The hands fly back and he hears Bokuto's whimper, imagines his hands hovering around his face. Akaashi sits, his vision blurred, the throbbing shooting through his skull in wave after wave. He thinks he can still blink, but he can only tell from the sharpness of the pain (sharper if open, duller if closed). It takes a long moment for him to be comfortable trying to focus his uncovered eye. 

He begins to sort out what happened from the expressions he sees on his friends' faces. Bokuto: between crying and hyperventilating. Kuroo: guilt and concern. Considering where they are, what eye he was currently clutching in pain, and what he was doing, the puzzle comes together in his mind instantly.

"Did you just elbow me in the face?" he whispers at Kuroo. 

"You moved when I moved!" Kuroo replies, and his hands are shaking as he hovers them away from Akaashi's head. Maybe he'd been the one grabbing his wrist earlier. "I swear it was an accident, I was getting up to have some fun arguing with Bokuto, and your face was there when I was trying to slide back..."

"Kaashi, move your hand," Bokuto whispers, and it comes out as a whimper at the end. Akaashi shakes his head and keeps his hand firmly over his eye, which has started to throb. "I need to see it. You could be hurt." 

It's that, combined with how genuinely scared they both look, that compels Akaashi to move his hand. He instantly wishes he hadn't. 

Bokuto screams, the noise starting high pitched and getting caught in a sharp squeak in his throat. He jumps back from the couch as if he's seen a demon. 

"Oh my god, it's already bruising," Kuroo mutters. He cups Akaashi's cheek and turns his face slightly, catching the light better, and the movement makes Akaashi feel a tiny bit woozy. "Well, on the bright side, you really can't see your eye bags anymore, Akaashi. But you still look like a zombie. God, your eyelid is swollen too. You're gonna be on concussion watch the rest of today. I'm sorry."

"It was an accident," Akaashi mutters, letting his vision blur a bit as Kuroo leans in to check him a bit closer up. "And if it wasn't, I'm going to strangle you."

"Bokuto, can you get a cold compress?" Kuroo asks. 

Silence. A bad sign with Bokuto. They both turn to his last known location (fleeing the couch at top speed), and there he stands, clutching his throat. He gives a thumbs up, but otherwise says nothing. 

Kuroo's face pales. "What'd you do?"

"I think I hurt my throat just now," Bokuto replies, his voice incredibly rough and scratchy. It sounds like he inhaled sandpaper. He rubs at the muscles, as if that would somehow fix his vocal cords. "I was just really startled." 

"Get the compress!" Kuroo yells. Bokuto spins on his heel and rushes into the kitchen. Kuroo keeps turning Akaashi's head, and each time he does Akaashi feels a little less dizzy. Kuroo brushes fingers near it, but the small pressure is enough to make Akaashi flinch, and Kuroo draws his hand back. He murmurs another few apologies, scoops the controller off the floor himself, and holds his hand out before Bokuto even returns from the kitchen.

"Hand it over," he says. Bokuto clutches it close to his chest.

"He's my boyfriend," he huffs, the extra air leaving his mouth making him sound eerily old and sick. "I'm holding it on his face."

"No way! I did this, so it's my job to make it right." Kuroo flexes his fingers. 

"And you think I'd trust you with a towel of ice after causing that? Look at him! It's purple already! He's hideous!" Bokuto crosses the room and sits back on the couch, attempting to press the ice onto Akaashi's face. Kuroo catches Bokuto's wrist and they wrestle just above his head. Akaashi sticks his hands out to try and grab it, narrowly missing the edge of the towel. 

"Let me hold it myself," Akaashi interjects, yelling only to be heard over the two of them. Both men turn to stare him down as if he's just suggested they do something horrible, like clean the bathtub or organize their own shoes. 

"Fuck no!" Kuroo and Bokuto shout at the same time, Kuroo's voice high and clear, Bokuto's like gravel crunching under tires. Bokuto's hand shatters an ice cube with a sharp crack.

"Give it here right now!" Kuroo yells. His knee finds its way into Akaashi's side and he grunts.

"No, he's my boyfriend, and-" Bokuto starts, and Akaashi shoots him the best glare he can manage with two black eyes (which is probably some kind of weird wink, since he can't glare his continuously swelling right eyelid).

"Stop trying to play the boyfriend card!" Akaashi feels his voice rising, and he can't hold it back, and it hurts his throat and head but he forces himself through it. He has a point to make. "You _just_ screamed like you were being murdered at my _face_."

"Akaaashiiiiii-"

A door slams.

In one motion, slow, deliberate, Akaashi, Bokuto and Kuroo all turn their heads, frozen in place. Kuroo kneeling into Akaashi's side, his arms frozen mid-wrestle with Bokuto. The source of the noise isn't the front door. It's the bedroom.

Kozume stands in the frame, one hand gripping the open sliding door so hard either his hand or the door is going to break. His messy, half dyed hair sticks up in clumps, slick with grease. His eyes, heavy with sleep, are narrow and sharp and deadly. His shirt is askew on his neck. He doesn't fix it.

He meets Kuroo's eyes first, who gives a half shrug, but knows enough to look ashamed. He settles back onto the couch and twiddles his thumbs. Kozume then turns to Bokuto, who tries to whistle, only to have a coughing fit and claw at his throat with his free hand. Finally, Kozume meets Akaashi's eyes.

"I expected better from you," he mutters, his low voice carrying through the air, still as Bokuto's coughs sputter and die. The words linger, fogging the room, weighing Akaashi down. Kozume holds his glare, never flinching or unblinking, until Akaashi looks down at his feet. He feels a bit of heat rise to his cheeks and he tries to shake it with a shudder, but can't. "Keep it down. I'm sleeping." 

Akaashi hears the door click, but he doesn't look up to see it close. He just feels the three of them flinch back into the couch as the sound echoes. 

"Woops," Kuroo mutters. Instead of protesting, or whining, or making any noise whatsoever, Bokuto leans to the remote to mute the TV. 

Akaashi snatches the ice from Bokuto's hand when he's distracted, and despite both of their silent protests, neither one of them dares to try and take it back. They all watch the door, afraid of Kozume's face reappearing with another glare. Akaashi takes the time to adjust the ice and calm himself down. To be told off alongside Bokuto and Kuroo - he must be in pain. He must be really out of it. He treasures the silence, but more than that, he treasures the ice numbing the awful throbbing still going on in his eye. He's going to need a mirror soon to inspect the damage.

It's ten minutes later when Bokuto and Kuroo try and subtly pick up their controllers, feigning disinterest, checking their nails and acting surprised that something got into their laps, seemingly unaided. Akaashi feels his mouth tug into a frown. It's barely another two minutes before they start up another race. Typical.

Akaashi readjusts the ice so he can watch.


End file.
